
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



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UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. 



THE 



ATHENIAN CAPTIVE 





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<& Cragrtto. 






BY T. X. TALFOURI). 






PRICE Font StaLEtfCS. 





THE 



ATHENIAN CAPTIVE 



A TRAGEDY. 



IN FIVE ACTS. 



BY 



THOMAS NOON TALFOURD. 

• I 

AUTHOR OF " ION," &C. 



V- 



FIRST ACTED AT COVENT GARDEN THEATRE, APRIL 28, 1838 









LONDON : 
EDAVARD MOXON, DOVER STREET. 

MDCCCXXXVIH. 



TK StfL 



.Ay 



BRADBURY AND EVANS, 

PRINTERS-EXTRAORDINARY TO THE QUEEN, 

WHITEFRIARS. 



THE RIGHT HON. THOMAS LORD DENMAN, 

LORD CHIEF JUSTICE OF HER MAJESTY'S COURT OF QUEEN'S BENCH, 



IN TESTIMONY OF DEEP ADMIRATION 

OF THOSE QUALITIES WHICH WERE THE GRACE AND DELIGHT 
OF THE BAR, 

AND WHICH HAPPILY ADORN THE BENCH ; 
AND IN GRATEFUL REMEMBRANCE OF MANY CHEERING KINDNESSES 

€f)te Cragrtfg 

IS, YV T ITH HIS PERMISSION, 

RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, 

BY 

THE AUTHOR. 



PREFACE. 



The existence of the following scenes is entirely to be 
attributed to the earnest desire which I felt, to assist, even 
in the slightest degree, the endeavour which Mr. Macready 
has made this season in the cause of the acted Drama. 
More than contented with the unhoped for association I had 
obtained with the living influences of scenic representation, 
in the indulgence accorded to " Ion," I should have post- 
poned all thought of again venturing before the public, 
until years had brought leisure, which might enable me to 
supply, by labour and by care, what I knew to be wanting 
in the higher requisites of tragic style. But I could not 
perceive a gentleman, whose friendship I had long enjoyed, 
forsaking the certain rewards of his art, and the tranquil 
pleasures of domestic life, to engage in the chivalrous 



viii PREFACE. 

endeavour to support a cause, which I believe to be that of 
humanity and of goodness, and which seemed almost des- 
perate, without a feverish anxiety to render him assistance, 
and perhaps a tendency to mistake the will for the power. 
The position of the two great theatres — with a legal 
monopoly, which has been frittered away piecemeal without 
recompense, until nothing remains but the debts which 
were contracted on the faith of its continuance, and the odium 
of its name ; — opposed to a competition with numerous 
establishments, dividing the dramatic talent and dissipating 
the dramatic interest of the town, — rendered the determi- 
nation of Mr. Macready to risk his property, his time, and 
his energies in the management of one of them, a subject 
of an interest almost painful. Impressed with this senti- 
ment, at a time when it was unforeseen that one of the most 
distinguished of our authors would lend his aid — when no 
tragic creation of Knowles " cast its shadow before," with 
its assurance of power and of beauty, — when the noble 
revivals of Lear and of Coriolanus were only to be guessed 
at from those of Hamlet and Macbeth, — I determined to 
make an attempt, marked, I fear, with more zeal than 



PREFACE. ix 

wisdom. Having submitted the outline of this Drama to 
the friend and artist most interested in the result, and having 
received his encouragement to proceed, I devoted my little 
vacation of Christmas to its composition ;— and, with the 
exception of some alterations (for the suggestion of the 
principal of which I am indebted to him,) succeeded so far 
as to finish it before the renewal of other (1 can hardly say) 
severer labours. Whether I may succeed in doing more 
than thus gratifying my own feelings, and testifying their 
strength by the effort, is, at this time, doubtful ; — but, in 
no event, shall I regret having made it. 

At this period I can only, of course, imperfectly estimate 
the extent of the obligation I shall owe to the performers ; 
but, as no other opportunity may occur, I cannot refrain 
from thanking them for the zeal and cordiality with which 
they have thus far supported me. Among them I am 
happy to find my old and constant friend, Mr. Serle, — who 
should rather be engaged in embodying his own con- 
ceptions than in lending strength to mine. And I cannot 
refrain from mentioning the sacrifice made to the common 



x PREFACE. 

cause by Miss Helen Faucit, in consenting to perform 
a character far beneath the sphere in which she is entitled 
to move; and which, even when elevated and graced by 
her, will, I fear, be chiefly noted for her good-nature in 
accepting it. 

The First Scene of the Third Act, and the Second 
Scene of the Fourth Act, are omitted in the representation ; 
and some alterations, suggested at rehearsal, have been 
made in the conduct of the closing Scene. 

T. N. T. 

Russell Square, 28th April, 1838. 



persons of tfje IBrama, 



AS REPRESENTED AT COVENT GARDEN THEATRE. 



Creon . . King of Corinth Mb. Warde. 

Hyllus . Son of Creon Mr. Anderson. 

Iphitus . Priest of the Temple of Jupiter the ) 

A 4 A • xu > Mr. Serle. 

Avenger, at Corinth .... J 

Calchas . An Athenian, living at Corinth . . Mr. Waldron. 

Thoas . An Athenian Warrior Mr. Macready. 

Pentheus An Athenian Warrior, his Friend . Mr. Diddear. 

Lycus . . Master of the Slaves to the King of) „, „ 

^ . Al > Mr. Howe. 

Corinth J 

Athenian and Corinthian Soldiers, fyc. 

Ismene . Queen of Corinth; second wife of) 

i JLVJ. K S 9 V V A R N E R • 

Creon J 

Creusa . Daughter of Creon ; twin-born ofl TT 

n T _ > Miss Helen Faucit, 

his first wife with Hyllus . • J 



Scene — Corinth, and its immediate neighbourhood. 
Time of Action — Two days. 



THE 



ATHENIAN CAPTIVE 

A TRAGEDY. 



ACT I. 

SCENE I. 
The Acropolis of Corinth. 



Creon reclining on a bench, beneath open columns. — 
Iphitus a little behind him, in the dress of Augury, 
watching the flight of birds. The Sea seen far below, 
in the distance. 

IPHITUS. 

Wheel through the ambient air, ye sacred birds, 

In circles still contracting, that aspire 

To share the radiance of yon dazzling beams, 

And 'midst them float from mortal gaze ; ye speak 

In no uncertain language to the sons 

Of Corinth, that the shames they bear from Athens 

Shall speedily be lost in glories won 

B 



2 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act i. 

From insolent battalions, that have borne 
Their triumphs to our gates. Rejoice, my king ! 
Leave mournful contemplation of the dust, 
To hail the omen ! 

CREON. 

I am so perplex'd 
With the faint tracings age's weakness shapes, 
That I distinguish not the winged forms 
Thou speakest of, from the mists that flicker quick 
On eyes which soon must be all dark. To me 
No omen can be otherwise than sad ! 

IPHITUS. 

Surely, my king — for I will answer thee 

Untrembling, as Jove's minister — these signs 

Should make thy heart beat proudly ; hast not felt 

Upon our loftiest eminence, the blight 

Of that dishonour which alone can slay 

The spirit of a people ; — seen our fanes 

Crowded with suppliants from our wasted fields, 

Shrieking for help in vain, and mourn 'd the power 

Of Athens to convert our cloudless sky, 

And the bright sea which circles us, to bounds 

Of a great prison ? If thy kingly soul 

Hath shrunk — as well I know it hath — from shame 

Without example in our story, now 

Bid it expand, as our beleaguer'd gates 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE, 

Shall open wide to let our heroes pass, 

With brows which glisten to receive the laurel 

From their king's hand. 

CREON. 

Perchance to see him die. 
O, Iphitus ! thy king hath well nigh spent 
His store of wealth, of glory, and of power, 
Which made him master of the hopes and strengths 
Of others ! While the haggard Fury waits 
To cut the knot which binds his thousand threads 
Of lustrous life, and the sad ghost forsakes 
The palace of its regal clay, to shrink, 
Thin as a beggar's, sceptreless, uncrownM, 
Unheeded, to the throngM and silent shore 
Where flattery soothes not, think"st thou it can draw 
A parting comfort from surrounding looks 
Of lusty youth, prepar'd, with beaming joy, 
To hail a young successor ? 

IPHITUS. 

Still thine age 
Is green and hopeful ; there is nought about thee 
To speak of mortal sickness, and unnerve 
A soul that once was noble. 

CREON. 

Priest, forbear ! 
The life that lingers in me is the witness 

b 2 



4 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE, [act i. 

With which I may not palter. I may seem 

To-day to wear the look of yesterday, — 

A shrivell'd, doting, peevish, weak old man, 

Who may endure some winters more to strip 

A leaflet daily from him, till he stands 

So bare of happiness, that Death hath scarce 

An art to make him nakeder. My soul 

Begins its solemn whispers of adieu 

To earth's too sweet companionship. Yet, hark ! 

It is Creusa's footstep ; is't not, priest ? 

Is not my child approaching us ? 

IPHITUS. 

Afar 
I see the snowy foldings of a robe 
Wave through the column'd avenue ; thy sense 
Is finer than the impatient ear of youth, 
That it should catch the music of a step 
So distant and so gentle. 

CREON. 

If thou wert 
A father, thou wouldst know a father's love 
'Mid nature's weakness, for one failing sense 
Still finds another sharpen'd to attend 
Its finest ministries. Unlike the pomps 
That make the dregs of life more bitter, this 
Can sweeten even a king's. 

[Creusa passes across the stage behind Creon, hearing 

•J 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 

She passes on ; 
So ! So ! all leave me. Call her, Iphitus, 
Though that her duty own no touch of fondness, 
I will command her. Am I not her king ? 
Why dost not call ? 

Re-enter C RE us a, who kneels in front to Creon. 

Ah ! thou art there, my child ; 
Methinks my waning sight grows clear, to drink 
The perfect picture of thy beauty in ; 
And I grow gentle — Ah ! too gentle, girl — 
Wherefore didst pass me by without regard, 
Who have scant blessing left save thus to gaze 
And listen to thee ? 

CREUSA. 

Pardon me, my father, 
If, bearing offerings to the shrine of Jove 
For my sweet brother's safety, anxious thoughts 
Clove to him in the battle with a force 
Which made its strangest shapes of horror live 
As present things ; and, lost in their pursuit, 
I heeded not my father. 

CREON. 

In the battle ? 
Is Hyllus in the combat 'mid those ranks 
Of iron ? He who hath not rounded yet 



6 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act i. 

His course of generous exercise? I'm weak ; 
Is that the cause ? Is he impatient grown 
To put the royal armour on, his sire 
Must never wear again ? Oh, no ! his youth, 
In its obedient gentleness, hath been 
An infancy prolong'd ! It is the Power 
Which strikes me with the portents of the grave, 
That by the sight of his ensanguined corpse 
Would hasten their fulfilment ; 'tis well aim'd, 
I shall fall cold before it. 

CREUSA. 

'Twas a word, 
Dropp'd by the queen in answer to some speech 
In which she fancied slight to Athens, rous'd 
His spirit to an ecstasy ; he spurn'd 
The light accoutrements of mimic war ; 
Borrow'd a soldier's sword, and, with the troops 
Who sallied forth at day-break, sought the field — 
Where Jupiter protect him ! 

CREON. 

Bid the queen 
Here answer to us. [Exit Ithitus. 

Rarely will she speak, 
And calmly, yet her sad and solemn words 
Have power to thrill and madden. O my girl, 
Had not my wayward fancy been enthralled 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 

By that Athenian loveliness which shone 

From basest vestments, in a form whose grace 

Made the cold beauty of Olympus earth's, 

And drew me to be traitor to the urn 

Which holds thy mother's ashes, I had spent 

My age in sweet renewal of my youth 

With thought of her who gladden'd it, nor known 

The vain endeavour to enforce regard 

From one whose heart is dead amidst the living. 

Re-enter Iphitus. 

CEEON. 

Comes the queen hither ? Does she mock our bidding f 

IPHITUS. 

At stern Minerva's inmost shrine she kneels, 

And with an arm as rigid and as pale 

As is the giant statue, clasps the foot 

That seems as it would spurn her, yet were stay'd 

By the firm suppliant's will. She looks attent 

As one who caught some hint of distant sounds, 

Yet none from living intercourse of man 

Can pierce that marble solitude. Her face 

Uprais'd, is motionless, — yet while I mark'd it — 

As from its fathomless abode a spring 

Breaks on the bosom of a sullen lake 

And in an instant grows as still, — a hue 

Of blackness trembled o'er it ; her large eye 



8 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act i. 

Kindled with frightful lustre;— but the shade 
Pass'd instant thence ; her face resum'd its look 
Of stone, as death-like as the aspect pure 
Of the great face divine to which it answered. 
I durst not speak to her. 

CREON. 

I see it plain ; 
Her thoughts are with our foes, the blood of Athens 
Mantles or freezes in her alien veins ; 
Let her alone. [Shouts without. 

CREUSA. 

Hark ! — They would never shout 
If Hyllus were in peril. 

CREON. 

Were he slain 
In dashing back the dusky wall of shields, 
Beneath which Athens masks her pride of war, 
They would exult and mock the slaughter^ boy 
With Paeans. 

CREUSA. 

So my brother would have chosen ! 

[Shouts renewed. 

Enter Corinthian Soldier. 

SOLDIER. 

Our foes are driven to their tents, the field 
Is ours — 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 9 

CREON. [Hastily interrupting him. 

What of the prince — my son ? 
Thou dost avoid his name ; — have ye achievM 
This noisy triumph with his blood ? 

SOLDIER. 

A wound, 
Slight, as we hope, hath grac'd his early valour, 
And though it draws some colour from his cheek 
Leaves the heart fearless. 

CREON. 

I will well avenge] 
The faintest breath of sorrow which hath dimmM 
The mirror of his youth. Will he not come? 
Why does he linger, if his wound is slight, 
From the fond arms of him who will avenge it? 

SOLDIER. 

He comes, my lord. 

CREON. 

Make way, there ! Let me clasp him ! 

Enter Hyllus, pale, as slightly wounded. 

Why does he not embrace me ? 

[Creusa runs to Hyllus, and supports him as he moves 
towards Creon. 



10 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act i. 

CREUSA. 

He is faint, 
Exhausted, breathless, — bleeding. Lean on me, 

[To Hyllus. 
And let me lead thee to the king, who pants 
To bid his youngest soldier welcome. 

HYLLUS. 

Nay 
'Tis nothing. Silly trembler ! — See, my limbs 
Are pliant and my sinews docile still. [Kneels to Creon. 
Kneel with me; pray our father to forgive 
The disobedience of his truant son, 
His first — oh, may it prove the last ! 

[Creusa kneels with Hyllus to Creon. 

creon. 

My son ! 
Who fancied I was angry ? 

Enter Is men e. 

{To Ismene.) Art thou come, 

To gaze upon the perilFd youth who owes 
His wound to thee ? 

ISMENE. 

He uttered shallow scorn 
Of Athens ; — which he ne'er will speak again. 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 11 

CREON. 

Wouldst dare to curb his speech ? 

HYLLUS. 

Forbear, my father ; 
The queen says rightly. In that idle mood, 
Which youth's excess of happiness makes wanton, 
I slighted our illustrious foes, whose arms 
Have, with this mild correction, taught my tongue 
An apter phrase of modesty, and shewn 
What generous courage is, which till this day 
I dimly guess'd at. 

CREON. 

Canst thou tell his name, 
Who impious drew the blood of him who soon — 
Too soon, alas ! — shall reign in Corinth ? 

HYLLUS. 

One 
I'm proud to claim my master in great war ; 
With whom contesting, I have tasted first 
The joy which animates the glorious game 
Where fiercest opposition of brave hearts 
Makes them to feel their kindred ; — one who sparM me 
To grace another fight, — the sudden smart 
His sword inflicted, made me vainly rush 
To grapple with him ; from his fearful grasp 



12 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act i. 

I sank to earth ; as I lay prone in dust, 

The broad steel shivVing in my eyes, that strove 

To keep their steady gaze, I met his glance, 

Where pity triumph'd ; quickly he returnM 

His falchion to its sheath, and with a hand 

Frank and sustaining as a brother's palm, 

Uprais'd me ; — while he whisper'd in mine ear, 

" Thou hast dar'd well, young soldier," our hot troops 

Environ'd him, and bore him from the plain 

Our army's noblest captive. 

CREON. 

He shall die ; 
The gen'rous falsehood of thy speech is vain. 

CREUSA. 

O no ! my brother's words were never false ; 
The heroic picture proves his truth ; — they bring 
A gallant prisoner towards us. Sure, 'tis he. 

Enter Thoas, in armour, guarded hy Corinthian Soldiers, 
and Lycus, Master of the Slaves. 

SOLDIER. 

My lord, we bring the captive, whom we found 
In combat with the prince. 

HYLLUS. 

Say rather, found 
Raising that prince whose rashness he chastis'd, 
And taught how he should treat a noble foe. 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 13 

creon. £ To the Soldiers. 

Answer to me ! Why have ye brought this man, 
Whom the just gods have yielded to atone 
For princely blood he shed, in pride of arms ? 
Remove that helmet. 

THOAS. 

He who stirs to touch 
My arms, shall feel a dying warrior's grasp. 
I will not doff my helmet till I yield 
My neck to your slave's butchery ; how soon 
That stroke may fall, I care not. 

CREUSA. \_To HYLLUS. 

Hyllus, speak ! 
Why thus transftVd ? Wilt thou not speak for him 
Who spar'd a life, which, light perchance to thee, 
Is the most precious thing to me on earth ? 

THOAS. \To CREUSA. 

Ere I descend to that eternal gloom 
Which opens to enfold me, let me bless 
The vision that hath cross'd it ! 

hyllus. [To Creon. 

If thou slay him, 
I will implore the mercy of the sword 
To end me too ; and, that sad grace withheld, 
Will kneel beside his corpse till nature give 
Her own dismissal to me. 



14 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act i. 

tsmene. \_Speaking slowly to Creon. 
Let him breathe 
A slave's ignoble life out here ; 'twill prove 
The sterner fortune. 

CREON. 

Hearken to me, prisoner ! 
My boy hath won this choice — immediate death, 
Or life-long portion with my slaves. 

THOAS. 

Dost dare 

4 

Insult a son of Athens by the doubt 

Thy words imply ? Wert thou in manhood's prime, 

Amidst thy trembling slaves would I avenge 

The foul suggestion, with the desperate strength 

Of fated valour ; but thou art in years, 

And I should blush to harm thee ; — let me die. 

CREUSA. 

O do not fling away thy noble life, 

For it is rich in treasures of its own, 

Which Fortune cannot touch, and vision'd glories 

Shall stream around its bondage. 

THOAS. 

I have dream'd 
Indeed of greatness, lovely one, and felt 
The very dream worth living for, while hope, 
To make it real, surviv'd ; and I have lov'd 



scene I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 15 

To image thought, the mirror of great deeds, 
Fed by the past to might which should impel 
And vivify the future ; — blending thus 
The aims and triumphs of a hero's life. 
But to cheat hopeless infamy with shows 
Of nobleness, and filch a feeble joy 
In the vain spasms of the slavish soul, 
Were foulest treachery to the god within me. 
No, lady ; from the fissure of a rock, 
Scath'd and alone, my brief existence gush'd, 
A passion 'd torrent ; — let it not be lost 
In miry sands, but having caught one gleam 
Of loveliness to grace it, dash from earth 
To darkness and to silence. Lead me forth — 
(To Creusa.) The Gods requite thee ! 

CREON. 

Hath the captive chosen ? 
I will not grant another moment ; — speak ! 
Wilt serve or perish ? 

HYLLUS. 

{Throwing himself before Thoas. 
Do not answer yet ! 
Grant him a few short minutes to decide, 
And let me spend them with him. 

creon. {Rising. 

Be it so, then ! 
Kneel, prisoner, to the prince who won thee grace 



1(5 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act i. 

No other mortal could have gairTd : —remember 
The master of my slaves attends the word 
Thou presently slialt utter ; tame thy pride 
To own his government, or he must bind, 
And slay thee. Daughter, come ! The queen attends us. 

[Exeunt Creon and Soldiers. 

CREUSA. 

[ To H yllus, as she passes him. 

Thou wilt not leave him till he softens. 

[Ismeh E follows ; as she passes Tho as, she speaks in a 
low and solemn tone. 



ISMENE. 



Live ! 



THOAS. 

Who gave that shameful counsel ? 

ISMENE. [Passing on. 

One of Athens. [Exit. 

[Exeunt all but Lycus, the Master of the Slaves, — 
Tho as and Hyllus. 

thoas. [Abstractedly. 

What words are these, which bid my wayward blood, 
That centred at my heart with icy firmness, 
Come tingling back through all my veins ? I seem 
Once more to drink Athenian ether in, 
And the fair city's columnM glories flash 
Upon my soul ! 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 17 

LYCUS. 

My lord, I dare not wait. 

hyllus. [Eagerly to Lycus. 

He yields ; — I read it in his softening gaze ; 
It speaks of life. 

THOAS. 

Yes ; I will owe life to thee. 

HYLLUS. 

Thou hear' st him, Lycus. Let me know the name 
Of him whom I could deem my friend. 

THOAS. 

My name ! 
I have none worthy of thy ear ; I thought 
To arm a common sound with deathless power ; 
'Tis past ; thou only mark'st me from the crowd 
Of crawling earth-worms ; — thou may'st call me, Thoas. 

lycus. [Coming forward. 

My prince, forgive me; I must take his armour, 
And lead him hence. 

THOAS. 

Great Jupiter, look down ! 

HYLLUS. 

Thoas, thy faith is pledged. [To Lycus.] Stand back awhile, 
If thou hast nature. Thoas will to me 
Resign his arms. 



18 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act i. 

thoas. \_Taking off his helmet. 

To a most noble hand 
I yield the glories of existence up, 
And bid them long adieu ! This plume, which now 
Hangs motionless, as if it felt the shame 
Its owner bears, wav'd in my boyish thoughts 
Ere I was free to wear it, as the sign, 
The dancing image of my bounding hopes, 
That imag'd it above a throng of battles, 
Waving where blows were fiercest. Take it hence — 
Companion of brave fancies, vanish \1 now 
For ever, follow them ! 

[Hyllus takes the helmet from Thoas, and passes it to 
Lycus. 

hyllus. 
'Tis nobly done ; 
No doubt that it again shall clasp thy brow, 
And the plume wave in victory. Thy sword ? 
Forgive me ; I must filch it for awhile : 
Hide it — O deem it so — in idle sport, 
And keep thy chidings, till I give it back 
Again to smite and spare. 

THOAS. 

Too generous youth, 
Permit my depth of sorrow to be calm, 
Unruffled by vain hope. {Takes off his sword. 

Farewell, old sword, 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 19 

Thou wert the bright inheritance which grac'd 

My finish'd years of boyhood — all that time 

And fortune spar'd of those from whom I drew 

The thirst of greatness. In how proud an hour 

Did I first clasp thee with untrembling hand, 

Fit thee, with fond exactness, to my side, 

And in the quaint adornments of thy sheath 

Guess deeds of valour, acted in old time 

By some forgotten chief, whose generous blood 

I felt within my swelling veins ! Farewell ! 

[Thoas gives his sword to Hyllus, who delivers it to 
Lycus. 

hyllus. [Diffidently. 

Thy buckler ? 

THOAS. 

\_Takes off his buckler eagerly, and delivers it to Hyllus. 
I rejoice to part with that ; 
My bosom needs no bulwark save its own, 
For I am only man now. If my heart 
Should in its throbbing burst, 'twill beat against 
An unapparell'd casing, and be still. [ Going. 

hyllus. [^Hesitatingly. 

Hold !— one thing more — thy girdle holds a knife ; 
I grieve that I must ask it. 

THOAS. 

By the sense 
Which 'mid delights I feel thou hast not lost, 

c 2 



20 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act i. 

Of what, in dread extremity, the brave, 
Stripp'd of all other refuge, would embrace, — 
I do adjure thee, — rob me not of this ! 

HYLLUS. 

Conceal it in thy vest. 

[ Thoas hastily places his dagger in his bosom, 
and takes the hand of Hyllus. 

THOAS. 

We understand 
Each other's spirit ; — thou hast calPd me friend, 
And though in bonds, I answer to the name, 
And give it thee again. 

lycus (advancing). 

The time is spent 
Beyond the king's allowance : I must lead 
The captive to the court, where he may meet 
His fellows, find his station, and put on 
The habit he must wear. 

THOAS. 

Do T hear rightly ? 
Must an Athenian warrior's free-born limbs 
Be clad in withering symbols of the power 
By which man marks his property in flesh, 
Bones, sinews, feelings, lying Nature framed 
For human ? They shall rend me piecemeal first I 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 21 

HYLLUS. 

Thoas — friend — comrade, — recollect thy word, 

Which now to break were worse disgrace than power 

Can fix upon thee, bids thee bear awhile 

This idle shame. I shall be proud to walk 

A listener at thy side, while generous thoughts 

And arts of valour, which may make them deeds, 

Enrich my youth. Soon shall we 'scape the court, 

Ply the small bark upon the summer sea, 

Gay careless voyagers, who leave the shore 

With all its vain distinctions, for a world 

Of dancing foam and light; till eve invites 

To some tall cavern, where the sea-nymphs raise 

Sweet melodies ; there shalt thou play the prince, 

And I will put thy slavish vestments on, 

And yield thee duteous service ; — in our sport 

Almost as potent as light Fortune is, 

Who in her wildest freaks but shifts the robe 

Of circumstance, and leaves the hearts it cloath'd 

Unchanged and free as ours. 

THOAS. 

I cannot speak. 
Come — or mine eyes will witness me a slave 
To my own frailty's masterdom. — Come on ! 

[To Lycus. 
Thou hast done thy office gently. Lead the way. [Exeunt. 

END OF ACT I. 



22 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act ii. 



ACT II. 

SCENE I. 

A Court in the Palace of Creon. 

Enter Creon and Lycus. 

CREON. 

How does the proud Athenian bear his part 
In servile duty ? 

LYCUS. 

I have never seen 
So brave a patience. The severest toils 
Look graceful in him, from the facile skill 
With which his strength subdues them. Few his words 
By question drawn, yet gentle as a child's ; 
And if, in pauses of his work, his eye 
Will glisten, and his bosom heave ; anon 
He starts as from a dream, submissive bows, 
And plies his work again. 

CREON. 

Thou dost espouse 
His cause. Beware! he hurl'd defiance on me, 
Disdain'd my age, as if his pride of strength 
Made him in bondage greater than a king 
Sick and infirm as I am ; he shall feel 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 23 

What yet an old man can inflict. He comes ; 
Why does he leave his duty ? 

LYCUS. 

'Tis the hour 
Of rest — of food, if he would take it ; here 
He's privileged to walk. 

CREON. 

Lefs stand aside. 
[Creon and Lycus retire from sight. 

Enter Thoas, in the dress of a Slave. 

THOAS. 

Had I been born to greatness, or achieved 

My fame, methinks that I could smile at this ; 

Taste a remember'd sweetness in the thought 

Of pleasure snatch'd from fate ; or feed my soul 

With the high prospect of serene renown 

Beetling above this transitory shame 

In distant years. But to be wither'd thus — 

In the first budding of my fortune, doom'd 

To bear the death of hope, and to outlive it ! 

Gods, keep me patient ! I will to my task. \_Going. 

Re-enter Creon and Lycus. 

LYCUS. 

Wilt thou not join thy fellows at the feast, 
And taste a cup of wine the king vouchsafes 
For merriment to-day ? 



24 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act ii. 

THOAS. 

What ! are they merry ? 

LYCUS. 

Dost thou not hear them ? 

THOAS. 

They are slaves, indeed ! 
Forgive me, I would rather to the quarry. \_Going. 

Enter Messenger. 
messenger {addressing Creon). 
My lord, the games in honour of our triumph 
Await thee, — first the chariot race, in which 
Thy son prepares to strive. The wrestlers next — 

creon. 
Let them begin. \_Exit Messenger. 

Methinks yon captive's strength, 
No longer rebel, might afford us sport. 
Thoas ! 

THOAS. 

I wait thy pleasure. 

creon. 

Thou wert train'd 
Doubtless, at home, to manly exercise, 
And I would have thee show the youth of Corinth 
How the Athenians throw the quoit and wrestle. 

THOAS. 

My lord, I cannot do it ! 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 25 

CREON. 

One so strong 
As thou, had he been native here, would joy 
In sports like these. 

THOAS. 

O, have I not enjoy'd them ! 
My lord, I am content to toil and mourn — 
'Tis the slave's part ; these limbs are thine to use 
In vilest service till their sinews fail; 
But not a nerve shall bend in sports I lov'd 
When freeman to indulge in, for the gaze 
Of those who were my foes and are my masters. 

Enter Messenger y in haste. 

MESSENGER. 

My lord — the prince — 

THOAS. 

Is he in peril ? 

MESSENGER. 

As his chariot, far 
Before all rivals, glitter'd to the goal, 
The coursers plung'd as if some fearful thing 
Unseen by human eyes had glar'd on theirs ; 
Then with a speed like lightning flash 'd, along 
The verge of the dark precipice which girds 
The rock-supported plain, and round it still 



26 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act ii. 

In frightful circles whirl the youth ; no power 
Of man can stay them. 

THOAS. 

Friend, I come ! I come ! 

lycus. [Attempting to stop him. 
Thou must not go. 

THOAS. 

Away ! I'm master now. [Rushes out. 

CREON. 

My son ! my son ! I shall embrace thy corpse, 

And lie beside it. Yet I cannot bear 

This anguish ; dead or living, I will seek thee ! \_Exit. 

lycus. [Looking out. 

How the slave spurns the dust ; with what a power 
He cleaves the wondering throng, — they hide him now, — 
Speed him, ye gods of Corinth ! 

Enter Creusa. 

CREUSA. 

Whence that cry 
Of horror mingled with my brother's name ? 
Is he in danger ? Wherefore dost thou stand 
Thus silently, and gaze on empty air ? 
Speak ! 

Enter Iphitus. [^Creusa addressing him. 
From thy sacred lips the truth 
Must flow. 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 27 

IPBITUS. 

Be calm ; thy brother is preserv'd ; 
Urg'd by his furious steeds, his chariot hung 
Scarce pois'd on the rock's margin, where the vale 
Lies deepest under it; an instant more, 
And Hyllus, who serenely stood with eyes 
Fix'd on the heavens, had perish 'd ; when a form 
With god-like swiftness clove the astonished crowd ; 
Appear'd before the coursers, scarce upheld 
By tottering marl ; — strain'd forward o'er the gulf 
Of vacant ether ; caught the floating reins, 
And drew them into safety with a touch 
So fine, that sight scarce witness'd it. The prince 
Is in his father's arms. 

CREUSA. 

Thou dost not speak 
The hero's name ; — yet can I guess it well. 

IPHITDS. 

Thoas. — He comes. 

CREUSA. 

Let me have leave to thank him. 

{Exeunt Iphitus and Lycus. 

Enter Thoas. 
Hero ! accept a maiden's fervent thanks, 
All that she has to offer, for a life 
Most precious to her. 



28 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act h. 

THOAS. 

Speak not of it, fair one ! 
Life, in my estimate, 's too poor a boon 
To merit thanks so rich. 

CREUSA. 

Not such a life 
As his to me. We both together drew 
Our earliest breath, and one unconscious crime 
Shared ; for the hour that yielded us to day 
Snatch'd her who bore us. Thence attach'd we grew, 
As if some portion of that mother's love 
Each for the other cherish'd ; twin-born joys, 
Hopes, fancies, and affections, each hath watched 
In the clear mirror of the other's soul, 
By that sweet union doubled. Thou hast sav'd 
Two lives in saving Hyllus. 

THOAS. 

'Tis not meet 
That such a wretch as I, in garb like this, 

[Looking at his dress^ and shuddering. 
Should listen to the speech of one so fair ; 
It will unfit me for my tasks, 

CREUSA. 

Thy tasks ? 
O hard injustice ! 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 29 

Enter Hyllus, Creusa meeting him. 

Brother, join thy thanks 
To mine. [Hyllus and Creusa embrace. 

THOAS. 

No more. [Retiring. 

Grant, ye immortal gods, 

So beautiful a bond be never broken ! 

[Exit Thoas. 

creusa. 

He speaks of tasks. My brother, can'st endure 

To see a hero who hath twice preserv'd 

Thy life — upon whose forehead virtue sits 

Enthron'd in regal majesty — thus held 

In vilest thraldom ? 

HYLLUS. 

Ah ! my sweet Creusa, 
Thy words breathe more than gratitude. 



CREUSA. 



My brother, 



I pray thee, do not look into my face. 



HYLLUS. 

Nay, raise thy head, and let thine eye meet mine ; 
It reads no anger there. Thy love is pure 
And noble as thyself, and nobly plac'd ; 
And one day shall be honorYi. 



30 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act ii. 

CREUSA. 

Spare me ! 

HYLLUS. 

Come, 
The banquet hath begun ; the king expects us. 

\_Exeunt. 



SCENE II. 

Banqueting-Hall in Creon , s Palace. 

Creon, Ismene, Iphitus, Calchas, and Corinthians, 
sealed at the Banquet. 

creon. \_Rising. 

I thank ye for my son ; — he is unharm'd, 
And soon will join our revelry. 

ISMENE. 

We lack 
Attendance. Where is Thoas ? It were fit 
In Corinth , s day of triumph, he should wait 
On his victorious enemies. Go seek him. 

\~Exit an Attendant. 

CREON. 

I would have spar'd his services to-day ; 
He is but young in service, and hath done 



scene ii.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 31 

A glorious deed. Drink round, my friends, and pledge 
My son once more. 

ISMENE. 

My sovereign, I should deem 
So great a master in the skill to tame 
The nature struggling in a free-born soul, 
Would think it wisdom to begin betimes, 
When an Athenian spirit should be stifled. 
If thou would'st bend him to the yoke, 'twere best 
Commence to-day ; — to-morrow \ may be vain. 

Enter Thoas. 
Athenian ! — slave ! — 'tis well that thou hast come ; 
Else might we fear thou didst not feel so proud 
As such a man as thou should feel, to wait 
Upon his victor. Carry round the cup, 
And bear it to the king, with duteous looks. 

THOAS. 

I will endeavour, lady. 

[ Takes the cup^ and speaking aside. 

They will join 
In very openness of heart, to cast 
This shame upon me ; take the mantling cup 
With thoughtless pleasure from a warrior's hand, 
And smile to see it quiver ; bless the wine 
With household names, sweet thoughts of friends afar, 



32 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act ii. 

Or love which death hath hallowed ; and while springs 
Of cordial joy are quickeiVd by the draught, 
Will bid affections, generous as their own, 
Shrink, agonize, and wither ! 

ISMENE. 

Slave ! attend ! 
Enter Hyllus and Creusa. 

CREQN. 

Hyllus, our friends have pledg'd thee ; take thy place, 
And thank them. 

hyllus. [Advancing. 

I am grateful. — Thoas, thus ? 

CREON. 

We blam'd thy absence, daughter. Sit beside 
The queen. 

CREUSA. 

A humbler place befits me, father. 

[Sits at the end of the circle. 
[Thoas attempts to hand the cup. 



creusa. [To Hyllus. 



Brother, dost see? 



hyllus. [Aside to Thoas, taking the 

cup from him. 
Thoas, I blush at this ; 
Give me the cup. — Corinthian citizens, 



scene ii.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 33 

This is a moment when I cannot trust 

The grace of serving you to any hand 

Except mine own. The wine will send a glow 

Of rare delight when minister'd by one 

Who hath this day touch'd life's extremest verge, 

And been most bravely rescued. 

[Hyllus hands the cup. 

ISMENE. 

Will the king 
Permit this mockery ? 

CREON. 

Foolish stripling, cease ! 
Let the slave hand the cup ; and having pass'd 
Another round, fill high, for I will pour 
A great libation out, with such a prayer 
As every heart shall echo while the dust 
Of Corinth drinks it in. 

[Thoas takes the cup, and approaches C reus a. 

CREUSA. 

Nay, tremble not. 
Think thou dost pay free courtesy to one 
Who in the fulness of a grateful heart, 
Implores the gods to cherish thee with hope 
For liberty and honour. 

THOAS. 

Words so sweet 
Reward and o'erpay all. 



34 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act ii. 

CREON. 

Corinthians, rise ! 
Before the gods, who have this day espoused 
The cause of Corinth, I this votive cup 
Pour with one glorious prayer — Ruin to Athens ! 

[T.HOAS dashes down the cup he is about to hand to the King. 

THOAS. 

Ruin to Athens ! who dares echo that ? 
Who first repeats it dies. These limbs are arm'd 
With vigour from the gods that watch above 
Their own immortal offspring. Do ye dream, 
Because chance lends ye one insulting hour, 
That ye can quench the purest flame the gods 
Have lit from heaven's own fire ? 

hyllus. [Trying to appease the 

guests. 
'Tis ecstasy — 
Some phrenzy shakes him. 

THOAS. 

No ! I call the gods, 
Who bend attentive from their azure thrones, 
To witness to the truth of that which throbs 
Within me now. 'Tis not a city crown'd 
With olive and en rich 'd with peerless fanes 
Ye would dishonour, but an opening world 
Diviner than the soul of man hath yet 



scene ii.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE, 35 

Been gifted to imagine — truths serene, 

Made visible in beauty, that shall glow 

In everlasting freshness ; unapproach'd 

By mortal passion ; pure amidst the blood 

And dust of conquests ; never waxing old ; 

But on the stream of time, from age to age, 

Casting bright images of heavenly youth 

To make the world less mournful. I behold them ! 

And ye, frail insects of a day, would quaff 

" Ruin to Athens !" 

CREON. 

Are ye stricken all 
To statues, that ye hear these scornful boasts, 
And do not seize the traitor ? Bear him hence, 
And let the executioner's keen steel 
Prevent renewal of this outrage. 

IPHITUS. 

Hold ! 
Some god hath spoken through him. 

ISMENE. 

Priest ! we need 
No counsel from thee. 

HYLLUS. 

Father, he will bend — 
Twas madness — was't not, Thoas ? — answer me : 
Retract thy words ! 

d 2 



36 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act ir. 

THOAS. 

Fve spoken, and Til die. 

ISMENE. 

'Twere foolish clemency to end so soon 
The death.pangs of a slave who thus insults 
The king of Corinth. I can point a cell 
Deep in the rock, where he may wait thy leisure 
To frame his tortures. 

HYLLUS. \_To CREON. 

If thou wilt not spare, 
Deal with him in the light of day, and gaze 
Thyself on what thou dost, but yield him not 
A victim to that cold and cruel heart. 

ismene. \_Aside, 

Cold ! I must bear that too. {Aloud.) Thou hear'st him, 

king; 
Thou hear'st the insolence, which waxes bolder 
Each day, as he expects thy lingering age 
Will yield him Corinth's throne. 

CREON. 

Ungrateful boy ! 
Go, wander alien from my love ; avoid 
The city's bounds ; and if thou dare return 
Till I proclaim thy pardon, think to share 
The fate of the rash slave for whom thou plead'st. 



scene ii.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 37 

THOAS. 

King, I will grovel in the dust before thee ; 
Will give these limbs to torture ; nay, will strain 
Their free-born sinews for thy very sport, 
So thou recall the sentence on thy son. 

CREON. 

Thou wilt prolong his exile. To thy cell ! [To Thoas. 
There wait thy time of death ; — my heart is sick — 
But I have spoken. 

HYLLUS. 

Come with me, sweet sister, 
And take a dearer parting than this scene 
Admits. Look cheerily ; — I leave thy soul 
A duty which shall lift it from the sphere 
Of sighs and tremblings. Father, may the gods 
So cherish thee that thou may'st never mourn, 
With more than fond regret, the loss of one 
Whose love stays with thee ever. 

[Exeunt Hyllus and Creusa. 

iphitus. 

{Offering to support Creon. 
Hold! he faints! 

CREON* 

No; — I can walk unaided— rest will soothe me. 

[Exit Creon. 



53 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act ii. 

ISMENE. 

Good night, my friends ! 

[Exeunt all but Ismene, Thoas, and Calchas. 
Thou, Calchas, wait and guard 
The prisoner to his cell. Thou know'st the place. 

THOAS. 

Lead on. 

ISMENE. 

[Coming to the front to Thoas. 
Thou wilt not sleep? 

thoas. 

I wish no sleep 
To reach these eyes, till the last sleep of all. 

ISMENE. 

Others may watch as well as thou. 

THOAS. 

Strange words 
Thou speakest, fearful woman ; are they mockeries ? 
Methinks they sound too solemn. 

ISMENE. 

Said I not, 
I am of Athens ? Hush ! These walls have echoes; 
Thy gaoler is of Athens, too; at midnight 
He shall conduct thee where we may discourse 
In safety. Wilt thou follow him ? 



scene ii.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 39 

THOAS. 

I will. 

ISMENE. 

'Tis well. Conduct the prisoner to his dungeon. 
Remember, thou hast promis'd me. 

THOAS. 

My blood 
Ts cold as ice ; yet will I keep the faith 
I plight to thee. 

[Exeunt Thoas and Calchas. 

ismene {alone). 

It is the heroic form 
Which I have seen in watching, and in sleep 
Frightfully broken, through the long, long, years 
Which I have wasted here in chains, more sad 
Than those which bind the death-devoted slave 
To his last stony pillow. Fiery shapes, 
That have glar'd in upon my bed to mock 
My soul with hopes of vengeance, keep your gaze 
Fix'd stedfast on me now ! My hour is nigh ! 

[ Exit. 



END OF ACT II. 



40 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act m. 



ACT HI. 

SCENE I. 

The Dungeon in the Rock. 
Thoas discovered, alone. 

THOAS. 

Ye walls of living rock, whose time-shed stains 
Attest that ages have revoWd since hands 
Of man were arm'd to pierce your solid frame, 
And, from your heart of adamant, hew out 
Space for his fellow's wretchedness, I hail 
A refuge in your stillness ; tyranny 
Will not stretch forth its palsied arm to fret 
Its captive here. Ye cannot clasp me round 
With darkness so substantial, as can shut 
The airy visions from me which foreshew 
The glories Athens will achieve, when I 
Am passionless as ye. I hear a step ! 
It is that mournful lady's minister, 
Who comes to waken feelings I would bid 
For ever sleep. A light, as of a star, 
Gleams in the narrow cavern's steep descent ; 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 41 

And now a form, as of a goddess, glides 
To illuminate its blackness, "Tis Creusa ! 
My heart is not yet stone. 

Enter Creusa. 

I venture here 
Thus boldly to perform a holy office, 
Which should have been my brother's. — When he fled 
The city of his nurture, his last thoughts 
Were bent on his preserver ; he bequeathed 
His strong injunction never to forsake 
The aim of thy deliverance. I exult 
That heaven thus far has prosper^ it ; be quick, 
And follow me to freedom. 

THOAS. 

Did'st thou say 
To freedom, lovely one ? 

CREUSA. 

If thou wilt haste; 
The path is clear ; the city wrapt in sleep ; 
1 know the pass-word at the gates — how learn'd 
By quaint device, ill tell thee when we meet 
In safety, — if we ever meet again ! 

THOAS. 

And dost thou wish it ? 

CREUSA. 

Do I wish it ? Yes ! 



42 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act hi. 

And on the swift fulfilment of that wish 
My life is wager'd. 

THOAS. 

There is more than life 
To me in these sweet words — speak them again — 
But no ; — once heard they linger on the ear 
Which drank them in, for ever. Shapeless rocks 
That witness to the sound, rejoice ! No fane 
Of alabaster while the breeze has slept 
In circling myrtles, and the moon disclos'd 
Young love's first blush to the rapt eyes of him 
Whose happy boldness rais'd it, rivals you 
In sanctity which rich affection lends 
To things of earthly mould. Methinks ye spring 
Rounded to columns ; your dank mists are curFd 
Upwards in heavenly shapes, and breathe perfume, 
While every niche which caught the music speeds 
Delicious echoes to the soul. 'Twere bliss 
To dwell for ever here. 

CREUSA. 

O linger not ; 
The watch will change at midnight. 

THOAS. 

Midnight — Jove ! — 
I cannot go. 

CREUSA. 

Not go ! I ask no thanks— 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 43 

No recompense — no boon, — save the delight 

Of saving thee ; for this I've perill'd all — 

Life, freedom, fame, — and now thou tell'st me, proud one. 

That I have perill'd all in vain. 

THOAS. 

Forbear, 
In mercy ; I have pledg'd my word to wait 
A messenger the Queen will send at midnight, 
To bring me to her presence. 

CREUSA. 

To the Queen ? 
What would she with thee ? She is steePd 'gainst nature ; 
I never knew her shed a tear, nor heard 
A sigh break from her, — oft she seeks a glen 
Hard by the temple of avenging Jove, 
Which sinks mid blasted rocks, whose narrow gorge 
Scarce gives the bold explorer space ; its sides, 
Glistening in marble blackness, rise aloft 
From the scant margin of a poo), whose face 
No breeze e'er dimpled ; in its furthest shade 
A cavern yawns, where poisonous vapours rise 
That none may enter it and live ; they spread 
Their rolling films of ashy white like shrouds 
Around the fearful orifice, and kill 
The very lichens which the earthless stone 
Would nurture; — whether evil men, or things 



44 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act hi. 

More terrible, meet this sad lady there, 
I know not — she will lead thee thither ! 

THOAS. 

No— 
Not if guilt point the way, if it be sorrow 
I must endure it rather than the curse 
Which lies upon the faithless heart of him 
Who breaks a promise plighted to the wretched ; 
For she is wretched. 

CREUSA. 

So am I. Methinks 
I am grown selfish ; for it is not suffering 
1 dread should fall upon thee, but I tremble 
Lest witchery of that awful woman's grief 
Lead thee to some rash deed. Thou art a soldier, 
A young proficient in the game of death, 
And mayst be wrought on — 

THOAS. 

Do not fear for me ; 
Where shews of glory beckon I'll not wait 
To pluck away the radiant masks and find 
Death under them ; but at the thought of blood 
Shed save in hottest fight, my spirit shrinks 
As from some guilt not aim'd at human things 
But at the majesty of gods. 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 45 

CREUSA. 

Forgive me ; 
It was a foolish terror swept across 
My soul, — I should not have forgot 'twas mercy 
That made thee captive. 

Voice without. 
Thoas ! 

THOAS. 

I am call'd. 
The voice came that way — still thy upward path 
Is open — haste — he must not find thee here. 

CREUSA. 

My prayers — all that the weak can give— are thine. 
Farewell ! [Exit. 

THOAS. 

The gods for ever guard thee ! 
She glides away — she gains the topmost ridge — 
She's safe. Now can I welcome fate with bosom 
Steel'd to endure the worst. 

Voice without. 
Thoas ! 

THOAS. 

I come ! \_Exit 



46 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act rn. 

SCENE II. 

T/ie Hall of Statues, in Creon's Palace. 
Enter Ismene. 

ISMENE. 

Why tarries Calchas ? It is past the hour 
Of deepest night, when he should hither guide 
The avenger of my sorrows. Gods of Athens ! 
Whom strong expostulation hath compelPd 
To look upon my shames, one little hour 
I ask your aid ; that granted, never more 
Shall the constraining force of passion break 
Your dread repose. I hear a warrior's step — 
Ye answer, and ye bless me. 

Enter Calchas and Thoas. 
It is well. 

[To Calchas. 
Withdraw, and wait without. I must confer 
With this unyielding man, alone. 

[Exit Calchas. 

THOAS. 

I wait 
To learn thy will ;— why thou hast bid me leave 
The stubborn rock, where I had grown as dull, 
As painless, as the cell to which thy breath 
Consign'd me ? — thou, who urg'd the king to wreak 



scene ii.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 4 7 

His most inglorious spleen on one too low 
To be mark'd out for anger, too resolv'd 
To heed it ! 

ISMENE. 

I beheld in thee a soldier, 
Born of that glorious soil whose meanest son 
Is nobler than barbarian kings, with arm 
Worthy to serve a daughter, who has claim 
On its best blood. But there is softness in thee, 
Weakening thy gallant nature, which may need 
The discipline of agony and shame 
To master it. Hast thou already learnM 
Enough to steel thee for a generous deed ; 
Or shall I wait till thou hast lingered long 
In sorrow's mighty school ? I'm mistress in it, 
And know its lessons well. 

THOAS. 

If thou hast aught 
Of honor to suggest, I need no more 
To fit me for thy purpose ; if thy aim 
Hath taint of treachery or meanness in it, 
I think no pain will bend me to thy will ; 
At least, I pray the gods so ! 

ISMENE. 

Had'st thou borne 
Long years of lingering wretchedness like mine, 
Thou would'st not play the casuist thus. 'Tis well 



48 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act tit. 

For lusty youth, that casts no glance beyond 
To-morrow's fight or game, which values life 
A gewgaw, to be perilled at a plunge 
From some tall rock into an eddying gulph, 
For the next revel's glory, to collect 
The blood into the cheek, and bravely march 
Amidst admiring people to swift death, 
And call its heedlessness of what it yields — 
A sacrifice heroic. But who knows, 
Who guesses, save the woman that endures, 
What 'tis to pine each weary day in forms 
All counterfeit; — each night to seek a couch 
Thronged by the phantoms of revenge, till age 
Find her in all things weakened, save the wish, 
The longing of the spirit, which laughs out 
In mockery of the withering frame ! O Thoas, 
I have endured all this — I, who am sprung 
From the great race of Theseus ! 

THOAS. 

From the race 
Of Theseus ! — of the godlike man whose name 
Hath shone upon my childhood as a star 
With magic power ? 

ISMENE. 

Reduc'd to basest needs 
By slow decay in Attica, array 'd 



scene ii.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 49 

In hateful splendour here, I bear small trace 

Of whence I sprung. No matter — spurn'd — disown'd 

By living kindred, I have converse held 

With those of my great family whom Death 

Hath stripped of all but glory ; and they wait 

The triumph of this hour to hail me theirs. 

THOAS. 

Shame to our city, who allowed a matron 
Of that great race to languish ! 

ISMENE. 

Let it pass ; 
A single grief — a short and casual wrong — 
Which — in that sense of ages past and hopes 
Resplendent for the future, which are center'd 
In the great thought of country, and make rich 
The poorest citizen who feels a share 
In her — is nothing. Had she sought my blood, 
To mingle with the dust before the rush 
Of some triumphant entry, I had shed it ; 
And while my life gush'd forth, had tasted joy 
Akin to her rapt hero's. 'Tis thy lot — 
Thy glorious lot — to give me all I live for, — 
Freedom and vengeance. 

THOAS. 

What would'st have me do? 

E 



90 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act hi. 

ISMENE. 

I have not wasted all the shows of power 
Which mock'd my grief, but used them to conceal 
The sparks which tyrant fickleness had lit, 
And sloth had left to smoulder. In the depths 
Of neighbouring caverns, foes of Creon meet 
Who will obey thee ; lead them thence to-night — 
Surprise the palace— slay this hated king, — 
Or bear him as a slave to Athens. 

THOAS. 

Never ! 
I am a foe to Corinth — not a traitor, 
Nor will I league with treason. In the love 
Of my own land, I honour his who cleaves 
To the scant graces of the wildest soil, 
As I do to the loveliness, the might, 
The hope, of Athens. Aught else man can do, 
In honor, shall be thine. 

ISMENE. 

I thought I knew 
Athenians well ; and yet, thy speech is strange. 
Whence drew thou these affections, — whence these thoughts 
Which reach beyond a soldier's sphere ? 

THOAS. 

From Athens; 
Her groves ; her halls ; her temples ; nay, her streets 
Have been my teachers. I had else been rude, 



scene ii.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 51 

For I was left an orphan, in the charge 
Of an old citizen, who gave my youth 
Rough though kind nurture. Fatherless, I made 
The city and her skies my home ; have watch'd 
Her various aspects with a child's fond love ; 
Hung in chill morning o'er the mountain's brow, 
And, as the dawn broke slowly, seen her grow 
Majestic from the darkness, till she filPd 
The sight and soul alike ; enjoy'd the storm 
Which wrapt her in the mantle of its cloud, 
While every flash that shiver'd it reveal'd 
Some exquisite proportion, pictur'd once 
And ever to the gazer ; — stood entranc'd 
In rainy moonshine, as, one side, uprose 
A column'd shadow, ponderous as the rock 
Which held the Titan groaning with the sense 
Of Jove's injustice ; on the other, shapes 
Of dreamlike softness drew the fancy far 
Into the glistening air ; but most I felt 
Her loveliness, when summer-evening tints 
Gave to my lonely childhood sense of home. 

ISMENE. 

And was no spot amidst that radiant waste 
A home to thee indeed ? 

THOAS. 

The hut which held 
My foster-father had for me no charms, 

e 2 



52 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act hi. 

Save those his virtues shed upon its rudeness. 
I lived abroad ;— and yet there is a spot 
Where I have felt that faintness of the heart 
Which traces of oblivious childhood bring 
Upon ripe manhood ; where small heaps of stones, 
Blacken'd by fire, bear witness to a tale 
Of rapine which destroyed my mother's cot, 
And bore her thence to exile. 

ISMENE. 

Mighty gods ! 
Where stand these ruins? 

THOAS. 

On a gentle slope. 
Broken by workings of an ancient quarry, 
About a furlong from the western gate, 
Stand these remains of penury ; one olive, 
Projecting o^er the cottage site which fire 
Had blighted, with two melancholy stems, 
Stream'd o\?r its meagre vestiges. 

ISMENE. 

'Tis plain ! 
Hold ! hold ! my courage. Let the work be done, 
And then I shall aspire. I must not wait 
Another hour for vengeance. Dreadful powers ! 
Who on the precipice*^ side at eve 
Have bid gigantic shadows greyly pass 
Before my mortal vision, — dismal forms 



scene ii.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. ; 53 

Of a fate-stricken race — I see him now, 
Whom ye led follower of your ghastly train — 
O nerve him for his office ! 

THOAS. 

Fearful woman, 
Speak thy command, if thou would have it reach 
A conscious ear; for whilst thou gazest thus, 
My flesh seems hardening into stone ; my soul 
Is tainted ; thought of horror courses thought 
Like thunder-clouds swept wildly ; — yet I feel 
That I must do thy bidding. 

ISMENE. 

It is well ; — 
Hast thou a weapon ? 

THOAS. 

Yes ; the generous prince, 
When I resign 1 d my arms, left me a dagger. 

ISMENE. 

The prince ! The Furies sent it by his hand, 
For justice on his father. 

THOAS. 

On thy husband ? 

ISMENE. 

Husband ! Beware ! — my husband moulders yet 
Within his rusting armour ; such a word 



S4 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act in. 

From thee may pierce the rock beneath whose shade 

He fell, and curse him with a moment's life 

To blast thee where we stand. If this slight king, 

In the caprice of tyranny was pleas'd 

To deck me out in regal robes, dost think 

That in his wayward smiles, or household taunts, 

I can forget the wretchedness and shame 

He hurPd upon me once ? 

THOAS. 

What shame ? 

ISMENE. 

What shame ! 
Thou hast not heard it. Listen ! I was pluck'd 
From the small pressure of an only babe, 
And in my frenzy, sought the hall where Creon 
Drain'd the frank goblet ; fell upon my knees ; 
Embrac'd his foot-stool with my hungry arms, 
And shriek'd aloud for liberty to seek 
My infant's ashes, or to hear some news 
Of how it perish'd ; — Creon did not deign 
To look upon me, but with reckless haste 
Dash'd me to earth ; — yes ; this disgrace he cast 
On the proud daughter of a line which trac'd 
Its skiey lineage to the gods, and bore 
The impress of its origin, — on me, 
A woman, and a mother ! 






scene ii.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 55 

THOAS. 

Let me fly 
And whet Athenian anger with thy wrongs — 
My thoughts are strange and slaughterous. 

ismene. \_After a pause. 

Fly then ! Yes !— 
{Aside.) 'T will be as certain. — I will point a way 
Will lead thee through a chamber to the terrace, 
Whence thou may'st reach the wall. Thy only peril 
Lies in that chamber. Mark me well ; — if there 
An arm be rais'd to stay thee — if a voice 
Be heard — or if aught mortal meet thy sight, 
Whate'er the form, thy knife is pledged to quench 
The life that breathes there. 

THOAS. 

I obey. Farewell ! 
\_He takes her hand ; she shivers ; and drops it. 

ISMENE. 

Hold off thy hand — it thrills me. — Swear ! 



THOAS. 



By those 



Who hover o'er us now, I swear ! 

ISMENE. 

Be firm. 
That is the door ; — thou canst not miss the path. 
Is thy steel ready ? 



56 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iit. 



THOAS. 

Yes ; — my breast is cold 



As is that steel. 



ISMENE. 

Haste — the thick darkness wanes. 

\_Exit Thoas. 
Infernal powers ! I thank ye — all is paid — 
By thousand ectsasies in which my soul 
Grows wanton. Calchas ! 

Enter Calchas. 

Wish me joy, old servant ! 
What dost thou think of him who left me now ? 

CALCHAS. 

A gallant soldier. 

ISMENE. 

"Tis my son — my own ! 
The very child for whom I knelt to Creon, 
Is sent to give me justice. He is gone, 
Arm'd with a dagger, thro 1 the royal chamber, 
Sworn to strike any that may meet him there 
A corpse before him. Dost thou think the king 
Will see to-morrow? 

CALCHAS. 

He may slumber. 



scene ii.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 57 

ISMENE. 

No— 
He hath sent his son to exile — he will wake — 
I'm sure he will. There ! listen ! — "'twas a groan ! 
'Twill be but low — again ! 'Tis finish'd ! Shades 
Of my immortal ancestry, look down, 
And own me of your kindred ! — Calchas, haste ; 
Secure possession of the towers that guard 
The city gates : — entrust them to our friends, 
Who, when I give the word, will set them wide. 
Haste, 'tis thy final labour. I shall soon 
Be potent to reward the friends who clove 
To me in my sad bondage. 

CALCHAS. 

Whither go'st thou ? 

ISMENE. 

To the pale shrine of her whose withering shield 

Is dedicate to Athens. I have pray'd 

At coldest midnight there, without a hope 

Which might give ardour to my freezing veins. 

I ask her to allay my raptures now, 

By touch of marble — I require its dullness. 

There I'll await the issue. It is sure ! 

[Exeunt Ismene and Calchas. 



58 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act hi. 



SCENE III. 

The Outskirts of a Wood on one side ; the Athenian Camp on 
A Watch-fire at a little distance^ lighting the Scene. 



pentheus {walking backicards and forwards as a Guard). 

The cold grey dawn begins to glimmer ; speed it, 

Ye powers that favour Athens ! From the sea, 

Her everlasting guardian, Phoebus, rise, 

To pour auspicious radiance o'er the field, 

In which she may efface the foul dishonour 

Her arms ownM yesterday. Not shame alone, 

But loss no morrow can repair, is hers ! 

Arenas, our army's noble leader, sleeps 

Beneath the pressure of a thousand shields ; 

And Thoas, bravest of our youth, a slave — 

Perchance, ere this a corpse. Friend whom I loved, 

In whose advancing glories I grew proud 

As though they had been mine — if yet thou breathest, 

I will deliver, and if dead, avenge thee ! 

O, Thoas ! 

Enter Thoas wildly ', from the Wood. 

THOAS. 

Who pronouncM that wretched name, — 
That name no honest tongue may utter more ? 
Pentheus ! 



scene in.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 59 

PENTHEUS. 

Thoas ! most welcome. Thou art come in time 
To share a glorious conflict. Ha ! thine eyes 
Glare with a frightful light ; — be calm, — thou art safe ; — 
This is the camp of those who will reward 
Thy great emprise of yesterday, with place 
Among the foremost in the battle. Come 
To my exulting heart. \_Offering to embrace Thoas. 

THOAS. 

No ! — hold me from thee ! — 
My heart can ne'er know fellowship again 
With such as thine ; for I have paid a price 
For this vile liberty to roam abroad, 
And cry to woods and rocks that answer me 
With fearful echoes : — such a price, my Pentheus — 
My own unspotted conscience. Dost not see 
Foul spots of blood upon this slave's apparel, 
Polluting e'en that dress ? 

PENTHEUS. 

If thou hast struck 
Some soldier down to vindicate thy freedom, 
Who shall accuse thee ? 

THOAS. 

'Twas no soldier, Pentheus ; 
No stout opponent that my fatal knife' 
Dismiss'd to Erebus. A withered hand, 



60 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act hi. 

As from an old man, in the gloom stretch'd forth, 
Scarce met my touch, — which could not have delay'd 
My course an instant ; — 'twas no thought of fear, 
No haste for freedom, urged me, — but an oath 
Glar'd on my soul in characters of flame, 
And madden'd me to strike. I rais'd my arm, 
And wildly hurl'd my dagger ; — nought but air 
It seem'd to meet ; — but a sharp feeble sigh, 
Such as death urges when it stops the gasp 
Of wasting age, assur'd me it had done 
A murderer's office. 

PENTHEUS. 

Think not of it thus : — 
Thy lips are parch'd, — let me fetch water. 

THOAS. 

No! 
I have drank fiercely at a mountain spring, 
And left the stain of blood in its pure waters ; 
It quenchM my mortal thirst, and I rejoiced, 
For I seem'd grown to demon, till the stream 
Cool'd my hot throat, and then I laugh'd aloud, 
To find that I had something human still. 

PENTHEUS. 

Fret not thy noble heart with what is past. 

THOAS. 

No ! — 'tis not past ! — the murderer has no past ; 
But one eternal present. 



scene in.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 61 

hyllus. [Within the wood. 

Help me ! — answer ! — 

THOAS. 

The voice of Hyllus ! — of that noble youth, 
Who, for my sake, is outcast from his home, 
So near the camp of Athens ! Should our guards 
Arrest him, he will perish. Friend ! That voice 
Comes on my ear like that of one who served me, 
In yonder city ; leave thy watch to me 
A moment. 

PENTHEUS. 

No — thy passion^ dangerous ; 
I dare not trust it. 

THOAS. 

See — I have subdu'd 
The pang which wrung me. By our ancient loves 
Grant me this boon — perhaps the last. 

PENTHEUS. 

Be quick, 
For the watch presently will be remov'd, 
And the trump call to battle. [Exit Pentheus. 

thoas. [Calling to Hyllus. 

Here ! The hope 
Of saving Hyllus wafts into my soul 
A breath of comfort. 



62 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act hi. 

Enter Hyllus. 

HYLLUS. 

I have lost my path, 
Wandering the dismal night in this old wood ; 
Vd seek the coast ; canst thou point out the way ? 

THOAS. 

Avoid it — on each side the Isthmus, ships 
Of Athens ride at anchor. 

hyllus. [Recognising him. 

Thoas ! free — 
Then I am bless'd, and I can bear my lot, 
However hard ; — I guess the hand that op'd 
The dungeon door ; — how didst thou quit the palace ? 

THOAS. 

Why dost thou ask me that ? Through a large chamber 
That open'd on a terrace — 'twas all dark ; — 
Tell me who lay there ? 

I 

HYLLUS. 

'Tis my father's chamber, 
Did he awake ? 

THOAS. 

Thy father ?— gods ! The king ? 
The feeble old man with the reverend hair ? 
Art sure he rested there ? 



scene in.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 63 

HYLLUS. 

Sure. No one else 
May enter after sunset, save the queen. 

THOAS. 

The queen ! all's clear; — Jove strike me into marble! 

HYLLUS. 

Why dost thou tremble so ? as if a fit 
Of ague shook thee. 

THOAS. 

Nothing — only thought 
Of my past danger came upon my soul 
And shook it strangely. Was the old man there ? 

[_Stands abstractedly as stupefied. 

PENTHEUS. [Without. 

Thoas ! 

THOAS. 

Haste ! — Do not lose a moment — fly ! 
The watch-fire that is waning now is fed 
By hands which, madden'd by the foul defeat 
Of yesterday, will slay thee. 

HYLLUS. 

Whither fly ? 
The camp of Athens is before me; — ships 
Of Athens line the coasts, — and Corinth's king 



64 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act hi. 

Hath driven me forth an exile. I'll return 
And crave my father's pardon. 

THOAS. 

No — not there — 
Yet, where should the poor stripling go? O Jove ! 
When he shall learn — 

HYLLUS. 

Farewell — yet hold an instant ! — 
Wilt thou not send some message to Creusa, 
That she may greet her brother with a smile ? 

THOAS. 

Creusa smile ! — Methinks I see her now — 
Her form expands — her delicate features grow 
To giant stone ; her hairs escape their band, 
And stream aloft in air ; — and now they take 
The forms of fiery serpents — how they hiss — 
And point their tongues at Thoas ! 

HYLLUS. 

This is frenzy ; 
I cannot leave thee thus: — whate'er my fate, 
I will attend and soothe thee. 

THOAS. 

Soothe me ! — Boy, 
Wouldst haunt me with that face which now I see 
Is like thy father's. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Thou soothe me— 



scene in.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE, 65 

Look not upon me; by this lurid light 

Thou look'st a spectre. Hence, or I will rend thee ! 

HYLLUS. 

I rather would die here. 

THOAS. 

Fool ! fool ! away ! 

[_Exit Hyllus. 
He's gone — yet she is with me still, — with looks 
More terrible than anger ; — take away 
That patient face, — I cannot bear its sweetness ; — 
Earth, cover me ! \_Falls on the ground. 

Enter Pentheus. 

PENTHEUS. 

The troops are arming fast ; 
They call on thee to lead them. — Hark, the trump — 

{_ The trumpet sounds. 
thoas. \_Leaps up. 

Yes ; I will answer to its call. Again 
Thou shalt behold me strike. In yonder field 
Til win that which I hunger for, 

PENTHEUS. 

A crown 
Of laurel which hath floated in thy dreams 
From thy brave infancy — 

THOAS. 

A grave ! a grave ! \_Exeunt. 

END OF THE THIRD ACT. 



66 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv. 



ACT IV. 

SCENE I. 

The interior of the Funereal Grove at Corinth. 

The Urn of Creon. 

Creusa discovered bending over it. 

CREUSA. 

'Tis strange ! — I cannot weep for him ; Fve tried 

To reckon every artifice of love 

Which mid my father's waywardness proclaim'd 

His tenderness unalter'd ; — felt again 

The sweet caresses infancy receiv'd, 

And read the prideful look that made them sweeter, 

Have run the old familiar round of things 

Indifferent, on which affection hangs 

In delicate remembrances which make 

Each household custom sacred ; — Fve recall'd 

From Memory's never-failing book of pain, 

My own neglects of dutiful regard 

Too frequent — all that should provoke a tear — 

And all in vain. My feelings are as dull, 

Mine eyes are rigid as when first they met 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 67 

The horrid vision of his thin white hairs 
Matted with blood. Gods ! let me know again 
A touch of natural grief, or I shall go 
Distract, and think the bloody form is here. 

E7iter Hyllus. 
Hyllus ! my brother ! thou wilt make me weep, 
For we shall mourn as we were lov'd together. 
Dost thou know all? 

HYLLUS. 

Yes, all. — Alas ! Creusa, 
He died in anger with me. 

CREUSA. 

Do not dwell 
On that sad thought ; — but recollect the cause 
Was noble — the defence of one whose soul 
Claims kindred with thine own. 

HYLLUS. 

Unhappy sister, 
What sorrow stranger than thy present grief 
Awaits thee yet ! I cannot utter it. 

CREUSA. 

Speak ; — any words of thine will comfort me. 

HYLLUS. 

I fear thou must no longer link the thoughts 
Of nobleness and Thoas. 

f 2 



fa'8 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv. 

CREUSA. 

Then my soul 
Must cease all thinkings ; for I've blended them 
Till they have grown inseparate. What is this ? 

HYLLUS. 

That he hath made us orphans. 

CREUSA. 

He is free 
From such ignoble guiltiness as thou. 
What fury shed this thought into a soul 
Once proud to be his debtor ? 

HYLLUS. 

Poor believer 
In virtue's dazzling counterfeit, 'tis sad 
To undeceive thee. At the break of day 
I met the murderer, frantic from his crime, 
In anguish which explain'd by after proofs 
Attests his guilt. 

CREUSA. 

And is this all ? Hast said ? 
All thou canst urge against the nobleness 
Which breathes in every word ? Against thy life 
PreservM at liberal hazard of his own ? 
Against the love which I was proud to bear 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 69 

For him, and that with which he more than paid me ? 
He in some frenzy utter'd aimless words, 
And thou at once believ'd him guilty. Go ! 
Haste and accuse him. Henceforth we are twain. 

HYLLUS. 

Sister, I never will accuse him. 

CREUSA. 

Take 
My thanks for that small promise, though our souls, 
While thine is tainted with this foul belief, 
Can ne'er be mingled as they have been. Now 
I see why I was passionless. Ismene 
Bends her steps hither ; thou hadst best retire ; 
She rules the city, for her secret friends 
Cast off their masks, and own themselves the foes 
Of Corinth's prince. 

HYLLUS. 

Beside my father's urn 
I shall await her. 

CREUSA. 

I will not expose 
My anguish to her cold and scornful gaze ; — 
Brother, farewell awhile ; we are divided, 
But I will bless thee. [Exit. 



70 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv. 

Enter IsMene and Guards. 

1SMENE. 

Wherefore art thou here, 
Despite the sentence which the king pronounc'd 
Of exile ? 

HYLLUS. 

I have come to mourn a father, 
Whose words of passion had been long unsaid, 
Had his kind heart still throbb'd ; and next, to claim 
My heritage. 

ISMENE. 

Thine ! — win it if thou canst 



Enter Calchas. 
How stands the battle ? 

CALCHAS. 

Corinth's soldiers fly, 
Routed in wild disorder* Thoas leads 
The troops of Athens, and will soon appear 
In triumph at our gates. 

ISMENE. 

Leads, say'st thou ? — leads ? 
Let Corinth's gates stand open to admit 
The hero, — give him conduct to the hall, 
Where sculptur'd glories of Corinthian kings 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 71 

Shall circle him who sham'd them, — there, alone, 

I would crave speech with him. [Exit Calchas. 

hyllus. [To the Soldiers, 

My countrymen, 
Will ye endure this shame ? I am a youth 
Unskill'd in war ; but I have learn'd to die 
When life is infamy. If ye will join me, 
We'll close the gates with ramparts of the slain. 
Does no heart answer mine ? 

ISMENE. 

Their swords shall curb 
Thy idle ravings. Athens triumphs now ! — 
Attend him to his chamber, and beware 
He leaves it not. 

HYLLUS. 

For this I ought to thank thee : 
I would not see my country's foul disgrace ; 
But thou shalt tremble yet. \Exit, guarded. 

ISMENE. 

Now shall I clasp him — 
Clasp him a victor o'er my country's foes ; — 
The slayer of him most hated. Double transport ! 
The dream of great revenge I lived upon 
Was never bright with image of such joy, 
And now comes link'd with vengeance ! Thoas, haste ! 

[Exit. 



'2 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv 



SCENE II. 

Before the Gates of Corinth. 
• Shouts without. 

Enter Thoas in armour ', with his sword drawn, and 
Athenian Soldiers, as in pursuit. 

THOAS. 

Here we may breathe awhile from conquest ; 'twas 
A noble chase, we scarce may call it battle ; 
Success so quick hath followed on success, 
That we shall want more time to count our glories 
Than we have spent in winning them. The foe 
Is niggard, and will not allow our arms 
One day of conflict. We have won too soon. 
Grant me, great gods, instead of years of life, 
Another such an hour ! 

SOLDIER. 

My lord, here's wine ; 
'Tis from the tents of Corinth. 

THOAS. 

Not a drop. 
My heart's too light — too jocund, to allow 
Another touch of ecstacy, deriv'd 
From mortal fruitage ; nay, were it Jove's nectar, 
I'd set the untasted cup of crystal down, 
And wait till all our glorious work were finish'd ! 



scene ii.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 73 

Soldiers ! we sup in Corinth ! You'll not wait 
Past time of hunger, if ye are not faint 
With rapid conquest. 

Enter Pentheus and Soldiers. 

PENTHEUS. 

Noble leader, hail ! 
Thy country's heroes bless thee with the sense 
Of their delighted wonder ! With one voice 
They greet thee as the winner of this fight, 
To which thou led them. Never was a scheme 
Of battle, plann'd in council of the sage, 
Form'd with a skill more exquisite than that 
Which, in the instant thou wert calPd to lead us, 
FlaslVd on thy spirit, and in lines of fire 
From thine was manifest to ours ! Art wounded ? 

THOAS. 

A very scratch ; I blush to think no more : 
Some frolic blood let in the strife had serv'd 
To moderate my fervours. 

PENTHEUS. 

See ; our comrades 
Have snatched a branch from the Corinthian laurels 
(Which now I fear must wither) for a wreath 
To grace thy brow ! Soldiers, 'tis much I ask ; 
But when 1 tell ye I have watch 'd your chief 



74 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv. 

From the first flash that dazzled in his eye 

At tale of glory, ye may yield to me 

The proud delight of offering him this honor. 

[Soldier gives the wreath to Pentheus, who gives it to 
Thoas. 

PENTHEUS. 

I thank ye, comrades. 

THOAS. 

The immortal gods 
Grant me a double blessing in the friend 
From whom I take this happiness. O, Pentheus ! 
I have mus 1 d fondly — proudly — on the fate 
Which waits upon my country ; when the brow 
Which thou wouldst deck, was barM to mist and storm ; 
When every moonlit fountain which displaced 
The blackness of the moss-grown hillock told 
Of the pure beauty which her name should keep, 
Empearling starless ages; when each wave 
That rippled in her harbour to my ear 
Spoke glad submission to the Queen of Cities ; 
But never, 'mid my burning hopes for Athens, 
Did I believe that / should stand thus crown'd, 
Her laureird soldier ! Friends, the sun-light wanes, 
And we must sup in Corinth ! 

PENTHEUS. 

See, the gates 
Open to welcome us ! \_T he gates open. 



scene -ii.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 75 

THOAS. 

Without a blow ? 
We shall not earn our banquet. So expands 
Before the vision of my soul, the east 
To the small cluster of our godlike sons. 
Let Asia break the mirror of our seas 
With thousand sterns of ivory, and cast 
The glare of gold upon them to disturb 
The azure hue of heaven, they shall be swept 
As glittering clouds before the sun-like face 
Of unapplianced virtue ! Friends, forgive me ; 
I have been used to idle thought, nor yet 
Have learn'd to marry it to action. Blest 
To-day in both. 

PENTHEUS. 

A herald from the city. 
Enter Calchas. 

CALCHAS. 

I am commission^ by the queen to speak 
With Thoas. 

THOAS. 

I am here. 

[ Trembles., and supports himself, as paralysed, on 
Pentheus. 

Thou art commission'd 

From the infernal powers to cross my path 



76 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv. 

Of glorious triumph, with a shape that brings 
Before me terrible remembrance, which 
Had strangely vanish 'd from me. 

PENTH E U s. [ 1 o the Soldiers. 

He is ill,— 
Retire. 

THOAS. 

No — should the herald fade in air 
He would not leave his office unfulfiird, 
One look hath smit my soul. 

PENTHEUS. 

Is this a dream ? 

THOAS. 

No — 'tis a dreadful waking — I have dreamt 

Of honour, and have struggled in my dream 

For Athens, as if I deserved to fight 

Unsullied in her cause. The joy of battle 

In eddies as a whirlpool had engulf 'd 

The thought of one sad moment, when my soul 

Was blasted ; but it rises in the calm, 

Like to a slaughter'd seaman, who pursues 

The murderous vessel which swept proudly on, 

When his death-gurgle ended. Hence, vain wreath ! — 

Thou wouldst entwine my brow with serpent coldness, 

And wither instant there. \_Tcars the wreath. 



scene ii.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE, 77 

So vanish all 
My hopes; they are gone — Pm fit to answer thee 
Who sent thee here ? [To Calchas. 

calchas. 
The queen. 

THOAS. 

A worthy mistress 
Of such a slave— thy errand ? 

CALCHAS. 

She who rules 
In Corinth now, admits the victor's power, 
And bids the gates thus open : she requires 
A conference with Thoas in the hall 
Next to the royal chamber — thou hast been 
There, as I think, my lord. 

THOAS. 

I know full well , 
Lead, dreadful herald, on. 

PENTHEUS. 

The troops attend 
The order of their general. 

thoas. [To Calchas. 

Why dost wait ? 
Thou see'st that I obey thy call. 



78 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv. 

PENTHEUS. 

My friend, 
Thy blood is fever'd — thou may'st choose thy 'time — 
Postpone this meeting. 

THOAS. [To CALCHAS. 

Why dost tarry ? turn 
Thy face away — it maddens me — go on ! 

[Exit after Calchas. 

SOLDIER. [To PENTHEUS. 

My lord, we wait for orders ; this strange man, 
Half warrior and half rhapsodist, may bring 
Our army into peril. 

PENTHEUS. 

Fear it not ; 
He has all elements of greatness in him, 
Although as yet not perfectly commingled, 
Which is sole privilege of gods. They cast 
Such piteous weakness on the noblest men 
That we may feel them mortal. 'Tis a cloud 
Which speedily will pass, and thou shalt see 
The hero shine as clearly forth in council 
As he has done in victory. Meanwhile 
He leaves us pleasant duty — form your lines — 
Sound trumpets— march triumphant into Corinth ! 

[The Athenians enter Corinth. 



scene in.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 79 



SCENE III. 

The Hall of Statues in the Palace, same as in Third Act. 

thoas. \_Alone. 

Again I stand within this awful hall ; 
I found the entrance here, without the sense 
Of vision ; for a foul and clinging mist, 
Like the damp vapour of a long-closed vault, 
Is round me. Now its objects start to sight 
With terrible distinctness ! Crimson stains 
Break sudden on the walls ! The fretted roof 
Grows living ! Let me hear a human voice, 
Or I shall play the madman ! 

Enter Ismene, richly dressed. 

ISMENE. 

Noble soldier, 
I bid thee welcome, with the rapturous heart 
Of one, for whom thy patriot arm hath wrought 
Deliverance and revenge — but more for Athens 
Than for myself, I hail thee : why dost droop ? 
Art thou oppressed with honours, as a weight 
Thou wert not born to carry ? I will tell 
That which shall show thee native to the load, 



80 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv. 

And will requite thee with a joy as great 
As that thou hast conferr'd. Thy life was hid 
Beneath inglorious accident, till force 
Of its strong current urged it forth to day, 
To glisten and expand in sun-light. Know 
That it has issu'd from a fountain great 
As is its destiny. — -Thou sharest with me 
The blood of Theseus. 

THOAS. 

If thy speech is true, 
And I have something in me which responds 
To its high tidings, I am doom'd to bear 
A heavier woe than I belie v'd the gods 
Would ever lay on mortal ; I have stood 
Unwittingly upon a skiey height, 
By ponderous gloom encircled, — thou hast shown 
The mountain-summit mournfully reversed 
In the black mirror of a lurid lake, 
Whose waters soon shall cover me, — I've stainM 
A freeman's nature ; thou hast shown it sprung 
From gods and heroes, and wouldst have me proud 
Of the foul sacrilege. 

ISMENE. 

If that just deed, 
Which thus disturbs thy fancy, were a crime, 
What is it in the range of glorious acts, 
Past and to come, to which thou art allied, 



scene in.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. t 

But a faint speck, an atom, which no eye 
But thine would dwell on ? 

THOA.S. 

It infests them all, 
Spreads out funereal blackness as they pass 
In sad review before me. Hadst thou pour'd 
This greatness on my unpolluted heart, 
How had it bounded ! now it tortures me, 
From thee, fell sorceress, who snar'd my soul 
Here — in this very hall ! — May the strong curse 
Which breathes from out the ruins of a nature 
Blasted by guilt — 

ISMENE. 

Hold ! Parricide — forbear ! 
She whom thou hast aveng'd, she whom the death 
Of Creon hath set free, whom thou wouldst curse, 
Is she who bore thee ! 

THOAS. 

Thou! 

TSMENE. 

Dost doubt my word ? 
Is there no witness in thy mantling blood 
Which tells thee whence 'twas drawn ? Is nature silent ? 
If, from the mists of infancy, no form 
Of her who, sunk in poverty, forgat 
Its ills in tending thee, and made the hopes 

G 



82 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv. 

Which glimmer' d in thy smiles her comfort, — gleams 
Upon thee yet ; — hast thou forgot the night 
When foragers from Corinth toss'd a brand 
Upon the roof that shelterM thee ; dragg'd out 
The mother from the hearth-stone where she sat, 
Resign'd to perish, shrieking for the babe 
Whom from her bosom they had rent ? That child 
Now listens. As in rapid flight, I gazed 
Backward upon the blazing ruin, shapes 
Of furies, from amid the fire, lookM out 
And grinn'd upon me. Every weary night 
While I have lain upon my wretched bed 9 
They have been with me, pointing to the hour 
Of vengeance. Thou hast wrought it for me, son ! 
Embrace thy mother. 

THOAS. 

Would the solid earth 
Would open, and enfold me in its strong 
And stifling grasp, that I might be as though 
I ne'er was born. 

ISMENE. 

Dost mock me ? I have clasp'd 
Sorrow and shame as if they were my sons, 
To keep my heart from hardening into stone ; 
The promis'd hour arriv'd ; and when it came, 
The furies, in repayment, sent an arm, 



scene in.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 83 

Moulded from mine, to strike the oppressor dead. 
I triumph'd, — and I sent thee ! 

THOAS. 

Dost confess 
That, conscious who I was, thou urg'd my knife 
Against the king ? 

ISMENE. 

Confess ! — I glory in it ! — 
Thy arm hath done the purpose of my will ; 
For which I bless it. Now I am thy suitor. 
Victorious hero ! Pay me for those cares 
Long past, which man ne'er guesses at ; — for years 
Of daily, silent suffering, which young soldiers 
Have not a word to body forth ; for all, — 
By filling for a moment these fond arms, 
Which held thee first. 

THOAS. [Shrinking from her. 

I cannot. I will kneel, 
To thank thee for thy love, ere thou didst kill 
Honour and hope ; — then grovel at thy feet, 
And pray thee trample out the wretched life 
Thou gav'st me. 

ISMENE. 

Ha ! Beware, unfeeling man : — 
I had oppos'd, had crush'd all human loves, 
And they were wither'd ; thou hast call'd them forth, 

g2 



84 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv. 

Rushing in crowds from memory's thousand cells, 
To scoff at them. Beware ! They will not slumber, 
But sting like scorpions. 

Enter Iphitus. 

Wherefore dost intrude 
On this high conference ? 

IPHITUS. 

The people cry 
That solemn inquisition should be held 
For Creon's blood ; — else do they fear the gods 
Will visit it on them. 

ISMENE. 

They need not fear. 
It will be well avengM. 

IPHITUS. 

To thee, Ismene, 
That which I next must speak, is of dear import ; — 
Wilt hear it in this noble stranger's presence ? 

ISMENE. 

Say on, old man. 

IPHITUS. 

From the old crumbling altar, 
Just as the gates were open'd, breathed a voice 
In whisper low, yet heard through each recess 
Of Jove's vast temple, bidding us to seek 



scene in.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 85 

Of thee, Ismene, who the murderer is, 
And summon thee to the same fearful spot, 
To speak it there. 

ismene. [ZVThoas. 

Athenian ! dost thou hear ? 

THOAS. 

I hear. 

IPHITUS. 

The hostile nations lay aside 
Their quarrel, till this justice to the dead 
Is render'd. Chiefs of each will guard the fane, 
And wait the solemn issue. — In their name, 
And in the mightier name of him whose shrine 
Hath burst long silence, I command thee, queen, 
Thou presently be there. 

ISMENE. 

I shall obey — 
Beside the altar place the regal seat ; 
And there, in state befitting Corinth's queen, 
I'll take my place. [To Thoas. 

Farewell ! Thou wilt be there ! 

THOAS. 

Be sure I will not fail. 

ISMENE. 

'Tis well ! Tis well ! [Exit. 



86 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv. 

IPHITUS. 

Thou saidst thou shouldst attend ? 

THOAS. 

I shall. What more 
Would'st thou have with me ? 

IPHITUS. 

I would ask a band 
Of the most noble of Athenian youth, 
To witness this procedure ; and to lend 
Their conduct, should the murderer stand reveal'd, 
To keep the course of justice unassail'd, 
And line the path of death. 

THOAS. 

All that can make 
The wretch accurs'd, shall wait him. Let me breathe 
Alone a moment. \_Exit Iphitus. 

How they'll start to see 
The guilty one descend the solemn steps, 
And hang their heads for shame, and turn their eyes 
In mercy from him. \_Going, 

Enter C reus a. 

CK,EUSA. 

For a moment hear me — ■ 
I would not break on thy triumphant hours, 
But for my brother's sake. Do not refuse, 



scene in.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 87 

For, if he wrongM thee by a frantic thought, 
There was one ready to defend thy honour 
From slightest taint ! 

THOAS. 

What taint ? the breath of infamy 
Spreads o'er my name already ! 

CREUSA. 

Do not ask — 
'Twas a wild thought ; — but there are tongues which make 
As false a charge ; tongues which have power to crush 
The guiltless ! — They have murmur'd that this crime 
Is that of Hyllus ! 

THOAS. 

Hyllus the unsullied ! 

CREUSA. 

I knew that thou would'st say so — that no force 
Of circumstance would weigh in thy pure thought 
Against the beauty of his life. They found him 
Just after day-break, suddenly returnM 
From exile, in the chamber of the king, 
Gazing with bloodless aspect on a sight 
Of bloodshed ; — yet thou dost not think 'twas he 
That with a craven hand — 

THOAS. 

O no! 



88 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv. 

CREUSA. 

And thou 
Wilt plead his cause — wilt save him from the fate 
That threatens his young life ? 

THOAS. 

My own shall first 
Be quench 'd ! 

CREUSA. 

The gods repay thee for the word ! 
O brother, brother ! could'st thou wrong this heart 
With one suspicion ? Why dost turn away, 
And shrink and shudder in the warrior's dress, 
As when I thank'd thee for that brother's life, 
At the slave's vest which then, in thy proud thought, 
Debas'd the wearer ? 

THOAS. 

O, I thought so then ! 
Now I would give the treasures of the deep, 
Nay more — the hope of glory — to resume 
Those servile garments with the spotless thoughts 
Of yesterday. 

Enter Messenger. 

MESSENGER. 

My general, Pentheus, asks 
If, by thy sanction, Iphitus requires 
His presence in the temple ? 



scene in.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 89 

THOAS. 

Pentheus ? — Yes. 

creusa. [Thoas turns meat/, 

Why in the temple ? wilt not speak ? 

MESSENGER. 

The priest 
There summons all to some high trial. 

creusa. 

I see it ! — 
They meet to judge my brother. I will fly — 

THOAS. 

Thou must not, lady — in that fearful place, 
Horrors unguess'd at by thy gentle nature 
Will freeze thy youthful blood, that thou shalt pass 
No happy moment more. 

CREUSA. 

And what have I 
To do with happiness ? I am not young, 
For I grew old in moments charg'd with love 
And anguish. Now I feel that I could point 
The murderer out with dreadful skill — could mark 
The livid paleness, read the shrinking eye, 
Detect the empty grasping of the hand 
Renewing fancied slaughter ; — why dost turn 
Thus coldly from me? — Ah ! thou hast forgot 



90 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv. 

The vows which, when in slavery, thou offer'cL 

And I was proud to answer — if not, Thoas, 

Once press my hand ; O gods ! he lets it fall ! — 

So withers my last hope — so my poor heart 

Is broken. [Faints. 

thoas. [To Messenger. 

Take her gently in. [Messenger supports her out. 

THOAS. 

One glance. [Looks at her and shudders. 
O that the beauty I have lov'd and worshipp'd 
Should be a thing to shiver me ! — 'Tis just. [Exit. 



END OF ACT IV. 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 91 



ACT V. 

SCENE I. 

The Interior of the Temple of Jupiter the Avenger — Ismene 
seated in the midst, in a Chair of State — Corinthians 
on the right, and Athenians on the left, side of the Tem- 
ple — At the extremity on the right side, Hyllus stand- 
ing — At the extremity of the left, Thoas seated. 

IPHITUS. 

Corinthians and Athenians ! late opposed 

In mortal conflict, dedicated now 

To solemn work of Justice, hear the will 

Of the Avenging Power, beneath whose roof 

Ye stand thus marshall'd. Royal blood hath stain'd 

A palace floor ;— not shed in blazing war, 

But in night's peace; not some hot soldier's blood, 

But the thin current of a frame made sacred 

To Orcus' gentlest arrow. Heaven requires 

Both nations to unite in dealing death 

Upon the slayer, who, unslain, will draw 

Its withering curse on both. In yonder shrine 

Which dim tradition's fearful whispers made 



92 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act v. 

A terror to my infancy, a voice, 

Which breath'd fell murmurs to ancestral ears, 

Breaks centuries of silence to pronounce 

The Queen as gifted to direct the shaft 

To the curs'd head ; — and every sign around us 

By which the world invisible, when charg'd 

With bloody secret, struggles to subdue 

Things visible to organs which may send 

Its meaning to the startled soul, attest 

The duty I assume. — Ismene ! 

ISMENE. 

Priest 
Of Jove, I am attendant to thy summons ; — 
What is thy wish ? 

IPHITUS. 

Sad widow of a king 
Whose feeble life some cruel hand hath stopp'd, 
I do adjure thee, by these hoary hairs, 
That chang'd their hue from raven whilst thou shar'd 
His mansion ; — by celestial powers, who watch 
Our firmness now ; — and by those fearful gods, 
Whom 'tis unblest to mention, lay aside 
All terror, all affection, all remorse, — 
If cause of penitence thou hast, to rend 
The veil of darkness which the murderer wears, 
And give him to his destiny. Begin 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 93 

The solemn strain which shall attune our souls 
To hearken and to execute ! 



[Solemn music. 



IPHITUS. 

Ismene, 
Speak : Dost thou know the slayer ? 

JSMENE. 

Yes! 

IPHITUS. 



Dost thou 



Behold him now ? 

ISMENE, [Looking wildly round. 
I do not see the faces 
Or know the names of all. Who is the man 
That at the right side of the circle stands ? 

IPHITUS. 

The youth with head erect and cloudless brow ? 
That is the orphan'd Hyllus. 

ISMENE. 

Who is he 
That sits upon the the other side, apart, 
With face averted ? 

[Thoas turns his head suddenly, and looks upon her. 
I behold him now. 
It is a dreadful duty you exact 
From me — a woman. If I speak the name, 
What sentence follows? 



94 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act v. 

IPHITUS. 

Death ! 

ISMENE. 

And soon performed ? 

IPHITUS. 

The Fates require that he thou shalt denounce 

As guilty, must be led in silence hence, 

And none behold him after, save his slayers. 

Attend once more ! Thou hast declared thou know'st 

The guilty one ! I ask thee — is he here ? 

ISMENE. 

OGods! He is. 

IPHITUS. 

Name him ! 

CALCHAS. 

She shudders ! See, — 
I think she cannot speak ! 

IPHITUS. 

If quivering tongue 
Refuse its office, point the victim out. 

[Ismene rises; turns towards Thoas, who rises, and 
confronts her ; she trembles, pauses, and resumes her seat' 

IPHITUS. 

Thou hast confess'd the guilty one is here ; 
Where stands he ? 

^Ismene rises; points to Hyllus, shrieks " There ! " and 
falls back senseless in her chair. 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 95 

THOAS. 

Tis false ! 

[Creusa rushes forward and embraces Hyllus, 

CRECJSA. 

Most false ! O murderess ! 
Protect him, noble Thoas ! 

HYLLUS. 

Peace, my sister: — 
Implore no mortal aid ; let us be patient, 
And suffer calmly what the gods decree. 
My life may satisfy. 

IPHITUS. 

It cannot be ! 
Hold — stir not — breathe not — from that shrine the voice 
Of heaven will answer hers. Do ye not hear ? \_A 
Hark ! — It is voiceless, and the youth is doonfd. 

THOAS. 

Forbear, ye murderous judges; — look upon him ! 
See on his forehead Nature's glorious seal 
Of innocence, outspeaking thousand voices, 
Which shining in the presence of the gods 
Still shows him guiltless. 

IPHITUS. 

Prove it. 

THOAS. 

With my life-blood ! 
O could ye place me in some dizzy cleft 



96 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act v 

Of inmost Thracian hills, when ribb'd with ice, 
To hear from every rocky shelf a howl 
Of wolves arous'd to famine, — I would stand — 
Calm, — O far calmer than I stand, — to wait 
Their fangs, and let my tortur d sinews 1 strength 
Attest his cause ; — 'twere nothing — 'twere no pain — 
To what the spirit feels. Thou talk'st of curses : 
Beware ! There is no curse with such a power 
As that of guiltless blood pour'd out by mortals 
In the mock'd name of justice. 

hyllus. 

\_To Thoas, aside. 

Thou wilt tell 

Thy secret ; — keep it. Leave me to my doom. 

THOAS. 

Never ! Corinthians, hear me 

ISMENE. 

[Recovering, 
What is this ? 
Why waits the parricide still there? Who dares 
Dispute my sentence ? 

THOAS. 

I! 

ISMENE. 

Be silent. She 
Who most in all the world should have command 
O'er thee, requires thy silence. 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. ' 97 

pentheus. [Stepping forward from 
the Athenian rank. 
By what right 
Dost thou — Queen of the vanquished — dare command 
The leader of the conquerors? 

ISMENE. 

By a mother's. 

^Thoas sinks into his seat — Ismene descends and 
stands beside him. 

ISMENE. 

Athenians— victors ! — 'tis your fitting name, 
By which I joy to greet yon. Ye behold 
One whom ye left to suffer, but who boasts 
Your noblest blood. See ! I command my son 
To quit this roof, and leave me to the work 
The gods have destined for me. 

THOAS. 

Stand aside ! 
I have a suit I would prefer alone, 
Which may save guilt and sorrow. 

iphitus. \_To Hyllus. 

Lean on me. 
To Thoas.] Be brief. 

HYLLUS. 

I have no need ; yet I will take 
This thy last kindness; for I can accept it 
Without a blush or shudder. 

H 



98 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act v. 

[All retire, leaving Thoas and Ismene in front. 

THOAS. 

Why hast heap'd 
Foul crime on crime ? 

ISMENE. 

Son ! there has been no crime 
Except for thee. The love that thou hast scorn'd 
From the heart's long-closed shrine, outwhisper'd fate, 
And saved thee. 

THOAS. 

Saved me ! Thou mayest save me yet ; 
Recall thy sentence. Give me truth and death ! 

ISMENE. 

And own my falsehood ? No ! Let us go hence 
Together. 

THOAS. 

And permit this youth to die ! 
O that some god would mirror to my soul 
Our mortal passage, while the arid sand 
We pace ; the yellow, sunless, sky above us ; 
And forms distort with anguish, which shall meet 
Each vain attempt to be alone, enclose 
The conscious blasters of the earth, till forced 
To gaze upon each other, we behold, 
As in eternal registry, the curse 
Writ in the face of each ! No ; let us pray 
For torture and for peace ! 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 99 

1SMENE. 

If thou remain, 
And risk dishonour to our house and me, 
The poisonous cave below shall be my home, 
And shelter me for ever ! 

THOAS. 

Thou art brave, 
As fits a matron of heroic line ; 
Be great in penitence, and we shall meet 
Absolv'd, where I may join my hand to thine, 
And walk in duteous silence by thy side. 

ISMENE. 

And couldst thou love me then ? 

THOAS. 

Love thee ! My mother, 
When thou didst speak that word, the gloom of years 
Was parted, — and I knew again the face 
Which linger 'd o'er my infancy, — so pale, 
So proud, so beautiful ! I kneel again, 
A child, and plead to that unharden'd heart, 
By all the long past hours of priceless love, 
To let my gushing soul pass forth in grace, 
And bless thee in its parting ! 

ISMENE. 

Never ! 
thoas. [Rising. 

Yes ! 



100 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act v. 

Haste ere the roof shall fall, and crush the germ 
Of sweet repentance in us ; take thy seat. 
And speak as thy heart dictates — 

[Drawing Ismene towards her seat. 
Hear again ! 

ISMENE. 

Unhand me — rebel son ! Assembled Chiefs, 
Ye called me — I have spoken once — I speak 
No more; make way there! — I must pass alone ! 

\_Exit ISMENE. 
THOAS. 

\_Calling to Ismene. 
O ! mother, stay ! She's gone. 

[Sinks into his chair. 

IPHITUS. 

Her word decides, 
Unless the gods disown it. Peace ! the altar 
Is silent ; the last moment presses on us — 
Hyllus, the doom'd, stand forth ! 

CREUSA. 

O pause ; to thee 
Thoas, I call ; thou know'st him guiltless. 

IPHITUS. 

Hold! 
No mortal passion can have utterance here, 
When Fate is audible. To yield is ours ; 
Be calm as Hyllus, or forego his hand. 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 101 

[Creusa sinks on her knees beside Hyllus; Iphitus lays 
one hand on the head of Hyllus, and raises the other towards 
heaven. 

IPHITUS. 

Dread Power, that bade us to this fane, accept 
The expiation that we offer now, 
And let this blood poured forth atone. 

[Thoas suddenly falls from his seat to the ground. 
C reus a rushes to him, and all surround him. 

CREUSA. 

Gods ! what is this new horror ? 

[Opening the vest o/Thoas, the dagger falls from it. 

THOAS. 

There! 'Tis done ! 
'Tis well accomplish^. 

CREUSA. 

Hyllus, go ! 
Brother, no more — for thee he perishes. 

THOAS. 

I will not purchase a last taste of sweetness 

By such estrangement. That steel bears the blood 

Of Creon and his slayer; — how excus'd 

I leave you, generous king, to witness for me. 



102 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act v. 

Enter Calchas. 

CALCHAS. 

The queen ! 

THOAS. 

Hold life a moment — what of her ? 

CALCHAS. 

She rush/d, 
With looks none dared to question, to the cave ; 
Paused at its horrid portal ; toss'd her arms 
Wildly abroad ; then drew them to her breast, 
As if she clasp'd a vision'd infant there ; 
And as her eye, uplifted to the crag, 
Met those who might prevent her course, withdrew 
Her backward step amidst the deadly clouds 
Which veil'd her — till the spectral shape was lost, 
Where none dare ever tread to seek for that 
Which was Ismene. 

THOAS. 

Peace be with her ! Pentheus, 
Thy hand ; — let Hyllus reign in honour here ; — 
Convey me to the city of my love ; 
Her future years of glory stream more clear 
Than ever on my soul. O Athens ! Athens ! \_Dies. 

HYLLUS. 

Sister ! 

CREUSA. 

Forgive me, brother. 

\Falls on the neck of Hyllus. 



scene i.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 103 

HYLLUS. 
Weep there ; 'tis thy home. 
Fate, that has smitten us so young, leaves this — 
That we shall cleave together to the grave. 



THE CURTAIN FALLS. 



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